


Ameridan

by oOAchilliaOo



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Inquisitor Ameridan, Jaws of Hakkon DLC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 17:11:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14623335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oOAchilliaOo/pseuds/oOAchilliaOo
Summary: On one of those rare, unquestionably perfect evenings Evelyn has nothing to do but review the discoveries she’d made in the Frostback Basin. In particular she finds herself reflecting on Telana’s fate when her own lover arrives to ….distract her.





	Ameridan

It was one of those unquestionably perfect evenings. A cold breeze was blowing in off the Frostbacks; its chill a wonderful contrast to the roaring fire and fuzzy warm feeling from the piping-hot bath she’d just vacated. Her half-dry, freshly-perfumed hair swirled around her, shrouding her in its scent as she sipped a glass of her favourite Tevinter red.

And the best part was that she had nothing else to do that evening, but sit by the fire and read.

An unquestionably perfect evening.

All in all, she felt more relaxed than she had in months, and definitely far cleaner than she had been while trekking through the Frostback Basin.

Shortly after, the night was made even better, with the sound of the door opening and the familiar tramp of boots on the stairs.

Cullen.

He was here before she had retired for the night. Something which had become marginally less rare since the defeat of Corypheus. It wasn’t that they had less to do these days, indeed, the Inquisition’s numbers seemed to always be on the rise, but what they did have to do was less urgent and so, very occasionally they were able to spend these evenings together.

She could almost see the weight that fell off his shoulders as he reached the top of the stairs and caught sight of her curled up on the chaise before the fire. Something in his stance and in his eyes, the tight control with which he governed himself at all times slipping away, his shoulders relaxing and eyes softening.

“Commander,” she greeted him, keeping her voice soft so as not to disturb the peace of the evening.

“Inquisitor,” he purred in reply, bending to give her a soft kiss, which invariably led into another before he left her to begin the complicated process of removing his armour.

“What are you reading?” he asked when at last he joined her on the chaise in just his shirt and breeches, a mug of ale in his hand.

She smiled.

“We found them in the Basin.” Picking up the sheaf of paper, she casually leafed through the pages. “Reports, journal entries and so forth, from the  _original_ Inquisition.”

“And they survived?”

“Yes,” she replied, chuckling at his surprise. “Most of them were protected in caves or other such places, some are my own reports.”

“I wish I had been with you,” he confessed. “Talking to Ameridan must have been…” His voice trailed off as he made the universal gesture for ‘I don’t have the words’, and she couldn’t blame him. How did you describe talking with your predecessor of almost a thousand years?

“It was… it  _was_. But what struck me most was how similar they were to us. Here.” She picked up one of the journal entries and handed it to him. “Here, Haron talks about the jokes Orinna was making and, here, he talks about a song they learned in a town he can’t remember the name of.”

“Orinna sounds like Varric,” Cullen scoffed as he scanned the journal.

“Exactly. For living almost a thousand years ago they sound remarkably… normal. It makes me wonder how we’ll be remembered. If we’re remembered at all.”

“You will be,” he stated, with all the certainty of a fact. “No-one could forget you.”

She recognised the soft heat in his eyes all too well: he was flirting and with that sinful smirk on his face there was no choice but to retaliate.

“He had a lover you know.” She leant towards him and crossed her legs under herself. “Ameridan, that is.”

“He did?”

“He did. We found her, or rather we found a spirit with her memories, alone on an island, calling out for him. It seems she followed him, gravely injured, and died while waiting for his return.”

“How sad,” he breathed, apparently genuinely touched by the tragedy.

“They’re together now. Her spirit was waiting for his. She wanted to ‘find him in dreams’.”

“The Fade?”

“Possibly.” She shrugged, taking a sip of her wine. “But I wonder… would you follow me? Wait for me like she did?”

She’d meant it to be teasing, flirtatious even, but she was met with a very serious look and a pair of amber eyes that burned with every ounce of his love for her.

“I would not want to go to the Maker’s side without you,” he vowed, there was no other word for it, moving close enough to brush her damp curls from her forehead and denying her the opportunity to respond by pressing the softest of kisses to her lips.

“Cullen,” she whispered, when she was able to breathe again. Her entire body now humming for a completely different reason.

“Evelyn,” he growled.

Before she could say or think anything else, he was kissing her again, this time fiercely enough to make her head spin and the only way to keep herself grounded through the onslaught of desire was her grip on his powerful shoulders.  He lifted her, as if she weighed nothing at all and caught her leg before laying her down on the chaise, her legs now cradling his hips.

As his kisses moved across her jaw and down her neck, licking and biting in a way that rendered her unable to stifle her moans; she clutched the material of his shirt in her fists, pulling it towards her until the bulk of it was bunched around his shoulders. Suddenly, his kisses stopped as he reared back to tear the offending material over his head. Immediately she reached for him, her fingertips skimming sculpted muscle and hard planes, ones that she knew well but which never failed to delight her.

Distracted, she didn’t notice his fingers fumbling at the knot of her robe. At least, not until it came free, exposing her mostly-naked form to his raw, hungry eyes in a look that ought to have immolated her on the spot. There was barely a moment for her to attempt to catch her breath before he was back, pressing a harsh kiss to her lips before skimming down to suck one hard pebbled nipple into his mouth. The arch in her back was purely instinctual but the grip on his curls as she pulled him closer was all design.

She was moving against him already, desperately seeking the friction that would bring her to release. It wasn’t nearly enough. She scored her nails down his back eliciting a growl that did nothing but make her need for him even greater. Blindly, she fumbled for the ties to his breeches, trying her best to focus on her task as he moved from one breast to the other and proceeded to drive her insane all over again.

Finally, the laces came apart and she was able to wrap her hand around the silken hardness she’d been seeking. He moaned long and low as she stroked him; a sound of pure need and desire that she loved being the cause of.

His revenge came in the form of his teeth scraping her nipple, making her buck beneath him. He took full advantage of the movement, seizing her underclothing and divesting her of it easily.

When he set her back on the chaise it was with both her arms pinned above her head. His other hand sliding up her thigh until his clever fingers swept around the centre of her pleasure once, twice three times before he skilfully shed his breeches and drove into her in one smooth movement.

She came the moment he was fully sheathed, shattering around him as she relished the feel of him inside her.

Mercifully, he gave her a moment to catch her breath, calloused fingers sweeping across her breast to her hip and gripping her there before he began to move. She was insensible to everything but the rhythm of their coupling, the feel of him inside her and the slight pressure of his forehead against her own. Her legs cradled his hips as she did everything she could to press him as close to her as possible while he drove into her, deep and hard and perfect.

“Eve…” he groaned, his voice as tight as the coiling pressure inside her. She didn’t have the breath to make a response save for the strangled gasp she made as she came for a second time.

It wasn’t long before he followed suit, a deep growl emanating from his throat as he spilled himself inside her. She would probably never get tired of the absolutely peaceful expression that appeared on his face after they made love. She knew that his smile was probably about as self-satisfied as hers and she delighted in his closeness as he collapsed on top of her breast.

“I love you,” he murmured, his breath a delightful caress on her sweat soaked skin as he hugged her close.

“I love you too.”

She idly ran her fingers through his curls, the action as soothing for her as it was for him. The weight of his body was perhaps a little heavy, her formerly-damp hair probably a matted, tangled mess by now, but she didn’t care.

What she did care about were the crumpled reports and centuries-old letters that she could now feel pressing uncomfortably against her skin.

“We’re laying on my reports,” she grumbled, fully aware that she was far to sated to move.

“If Ameridan and his lover were anything like us, I don’t think they’d mind,” he chuckled.

“Probably not,” she conceded, stifling her own laugh. “But I _do_. Besides, it’s late and we should sleep.”

He smiled warmly, and helped her tidy the rumpled papers before leading her to bed.

Predictably, a perfect evening such as that led into a perfect night’s sleep. The next morning, she found she was far more tolerant of the Orlesian scholars that had descended on Skyhold in the wake of their Ameridan-related discoveries.

She probably  _wouldn’t_  tell them how the reports had gotten so crumpled, though.

That information was best kept a secret between her and her Commander.


End file.
